


Of Acrobats and Aristocrats

by PuzzleDragon



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Canon, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15519066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzzleDragon/pseuds/PuzzleDragon
Summary: A collection of Anne/Phillip one-shots based off of tumblr prompts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Do you promise?” + Phillip/Anne

Anne’s honestly not quite sure how she ended up tucked away in a dark corner of the dressing tent between acts with her back pressed against one of the support beams and Phillip’s mouth pressed against hers, but she’s not complaining. No, the feeling of his fingers digging into her hips is all too enticing for any complaint to even cross her mind. But she can still hear the blare of the orchestra, barely muffled by the canvas walls, as the show continues on in the center ring. She can almost convince herself that the pounding drums are just an echo of her own heartbeat as Phillip’s hands brush against satin and skin, but the roar of the crowd finally draws her attention back to reality.

Anne pulls away, her breathing still shallow, and Phillip tries to chase after her lips a second later. She turns her head away to avoid being caught up in the kiss again, so he settles for pressing a line of soft, insistent kisses to the underside of her jaw instead.

She can’t help but giggle as he starts making his way down her neck, bumping into the crystals that circle her throat as his mouth dips down toward the base of her throat.

“If we keep carrying on like this,” she teases, tugging lightly at his hair to draw his attention away from her neck and back to her eyes, “You’re going to miss your next cue, Mr. Carlyle.”

“You’re probably right,” he mumbles, looking at her through half-lidded eyes, “But I really wish you weren’t.”

“So do I,” she whispers, and it takes all her willpower to not just give in to those blue eyes and ignore the audience for a little while longer. But she’s a professional and she has a show to put on, so she pulls herself together and untangles her fingers from his hair.

He’s not quite pouting as he helps put the bedazzled collar of her leotard back into its rightful place, but it’s close and Anne stifles a laugh at the sight of him—disheveled, breathless, and utterly smitten. It’s a good look on him.

“You can kiss me for as long as you like after the show.” She smirks and straightens out his jacket where her own roaming hands have mussed the fabric. “We’ll have plenty of time once neither of us are rushing to make our entrances.”

He tucks a stray lock of pink hair behind her ear and trails his fingers along her jawline before asking, “Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

“As long as I like could be an awfully long time.”

“My evening’s pretty free.”

Their banter does nothing to break the tension building between them and with each word, they move closer together again. Anne adjusts one of Phillip’s many golden buttons and then allows her hands to rest against his chest, telling herself that she’s just smoothing out the last few creases in the fabric. Phillip’s own hands have found their way back down to her hips, where he absently toys with the ruffles of her costume. 

They lean in at the same time, the excited cheers of the crowd still ringing in their ears as they close the distance between them and—

“Am I gonna have to drag you two apart to get Carlyle in that ring?”

They jump apart at the question and turn to see Lettie standing by a nearby vanity table, smirking at the pair of them. Anne and Phillip’s relationship is no secret among the troupe of performers, but both of their faces are still suffused with heat at having been caught in such an intimate position. They try their best to look contrite while simultaneously suppressing laughter at the absurdity of the situation. Lettie tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an answer.

“I guess I can’t keep the audience waiting any longer,” Phillip says before turning back to Anne, “But I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Anne answers, the lingering pink blush on her cheeks complimenting her wig perfectly. “Now go give that audience the greatest show they’ve ever seen.”

Phillip presses one last quick kiss to her cheek and grabs his discarded top hat from where it fell during their rushed embrace. He turns toward the opening in the tent, places the hat on his head, and runs back into the center ring, leaving a smiling Anne in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “When I’m with you, I’m home.” + Phillip/Anne

They salvage what they can from the rubble. All the posters are ash, most of the costumes are in tatters, but a few props and pieces of furniture managed to avoid the brunt of the fire. Their home is now a charred mess of half-burnt rafters, crumbling bricks, and scorched steel, but the troupe rescues what they can.

As Anne and Phillip walk through what remains, they see her hoop wedged under some of the wreckage. She doesn’t need to say a word before he steps in to help her retrieve it. It’s not much, but it’s still hers. Anne frees the hoop, watches Phillip drop the rubble back to the ground, and keeps her eyes on him afterward. She knows he’s still healing, knows he needs time, but he meets her gaze with a steady smile and she knows he’s alright. He’s recovering fast and growing stronger by the day.

As she watches Phillip approach Barnum and offer him the deal that she already knew was coming, she can’t help but smile. Even standing in the midst of the burned out husk the fire left behind, Anne feels lucky to have him in her life. She fidgets with the hoop as they talk, rubbing her calloused fingertips against the soot-blackened metal and revealing the shine underneath.

She keeps the hoop with her when the troupe moves down to the docks. Rather than let it be lumped in with the other salvaged equipment, she keeps it with her personal belongings during the transition. Everyone agrees that getting the troupe settled in their new location needs to come before setting up the show itself, so Anne’s hoop ends up leaning against the wall of her new trailer as Phillip helps her move in. Her living quarters are nothing grand—enough room for a cot and a vanity, somewhere to store her clothes and costumes, and space to move between it all and add a few personal touches—but it’s enough.

“Are you sure it’s not too cramped?” Phillip asks as he pushes her trunk up the small set of wooden steps into the trailer.

“It’s cozy,” Anne assures him, lifting the other end of the trunk and hauling it inside.

Between the two of them, unpacking takes almost no time at all. Anne tries not to focus on how little she seems to have now—so much of what she owned was lost in the fire—or the conspicuous empty spaces those missing items leave in such a small room. But it’s not all gone, she reminds herself, casting her eyes around at what remains. Her aerial hoop propped up in the corner, a few books stacked next to the cot, a small vase of wild flowers placed on the vanity next to her pink wig, and her shawl draped over the back of her vanity chair. As she tucks her sparkling costumes away next to her simpler dresses, she watches Phillip straighten out the sheets on her bed.

“Once the show starts up again and we have a paying audience,” he says, eyes still focused on his task, “We’ll actually have money to pay for a bit of decoration if you’d like. Maybe get some curtains for these windows or a nice little rug. You could paint the outside any color you like.”

“There’s no need to fuss,” Anne tells him, though she’s already imagining how much nicer the place would look with gauzy curtains in the small windows or a coat of bright paint on the dull exterior. She finishes arranging the last of her clothes and walks over to his side, watching his hands as he smooths out the linens on her cot.

“I did the best I could, you know,” he says, turning to look at her sheepishly.

“What are you talking about? The bed looks fine, Phillip.”

“No, I mean,” he sighs, trying to gather the right words, “You deserve so much more than this, Anne. You deserve a mansion on a hill with the best view in the world. Or at least a nice uptown apartment in the city. Somewhere you can call home.”

“When I’m with you, I’m home,” she counters, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “This, right here and now, is enough. It may not be perfect, but it’s all I need. Four walls and a roof over my head. Somewhere warm to sleep at night. Making a living doing something I adore. A good man who loves me standing by my side. That’s more than enough for me.”

“I guess I can’t argue really with that.” He smiles at her, his doubt washed away. 

“Good,” Anne replies, reaching out to cup Phillip’s jaw in her hand. “Because right now, I would very much like to kiss my good man who loves me.”

“I think I can accommodate that request,” Phillip says with a smirk, already leaning in.

The sun’s setting on the water and she can hear the distant sounds of the other performers moving around outside as Phillip wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. The press of his lips against hers simply confirms what she already knew: he feels like home.


End file.
